Shout
by iGleep
Summary: Out of place and out of her league, Skyrim was supposed to be a fun adventure now all manner of beasts are out for her blood. Some more mythical than others. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! First story so be gentle, I'm getting there. Read and review~ tell me what you think :D**

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A small wave of nausea pooled in the pit of Tegen's stomach. Her eyes were closed, but the rocking and creaking of the wooden cart on its worn wheels were more than enough to make her wish she were walking. She'd been awake for a portion of the journey through the mountains; a fair deal of it however she was sure had been spent unconscious. Last she remembered she'd been surrounded by trees that mirrored Skyrim's forebodingly tall inhabitants. There had been wisps of snow and the occasional sheet of ice on which she'd slipped, but she hadn't ventured so far into the mountains.

Slowly she resolved to open her eyes once more, blinking through the bright light of the noontide sun. Her travelling companions had been silent throughout their morbid procession; weary and disheartened they'd fixed their gazes on their hands or floor of the cart. She'd seen only glances of them in the brief fight she'd experienced mere moments after crossing into Skyrim, as luck would have it she'd chosen the worst place to cross into the frigid land.

Sighing in dismay Tegen couldn't help but feel a grim amusement at how much she'd thought her journey had been a success. Finding a place to live was supposed to have been the hard part but apparently she'd wandered from the God's favour straight into the brunt force of a shield. Wincing she placed her cold hands on the side of her face, opening her mouth wide and savouring the satisfying pop from her bruised jaw.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." Startled she locked eyes with the man who had spoken. Hands still raised she placed them in her lap in a vain attempt to hide the shaking of her slender arms, she wasn't sure if it was fatigue or the cold that make her shiver but hell if she was going to look like a quivering fool. He probably already thought her a child, towering over her from his seat opposite. Being dressed in rags wasn't helping her predicament any, before travelling she'd packed animal skins and thick leathers to ward off the cold, but the Imperials hadn't had the decency to throw her luggage in the cart with her.

"You were trying to cross the border, right?" She nodded taking in his blonde hair and dirt streaked face. His blue eyes seemed to soften to almost a look of pity, "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there."

The man he gestured to reeled back at his mention, eyes betraying an unfocused panic as he methodically twisted his hands in his bindings till his skin broke and bled. Glancing down she saw similar ropes binding her hands, the rough threads cutting into her skin as she tested their strength; feebly wrenching her hands with a pained huff. They weren't coming off. Wonderful.

"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine till you came along, Empire was nice and lazy." He stamped his feet in indignation at being caught for his crime and Tegen jumped slightly at the sudden noise. "If they hadn't been looking for you I'd have stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell!" Apparently he held no remorse for his theft, he reminded her of a whining child caught with his hands on the sweet rolls.

Lifting his arms to point at her, almost staggering from his seat he gave her a nearly feverish look. "You there, you and me. We shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." Leaning back she scowled at the disgruntled man for his presumption.

"Don't lot me in with you thief!" She'd tried to sound confident but a rough break in her voice and the resounding squeak that followed made her attempt fall flat. Coughing she glared once more in an attempt to save face. She was surrounded by men with arms wider than her waist who seemed perfectly at ease in the cold climate. She couldn't stay there a day without the harsh cold leaving her throat raw and fingers numb.

The blonde Nord seemed equally disgusted by the man's lack of nerve.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now horse thief." She'd been wondering when the legendary honour of the Nords would kick in, it had been something she'd been looking forward to experiencing once she had settled. Buying a chicken in Iliac bay meant having to haggle your way out of a political cat fight; if you were part of a rival family or lower in status then you weren't getting that chicken.

The Nords were simpler people. With plenty of chickens.

"Shut up back there!" The tanned imperial steering the cart apparently didn't appreciate their friendly banter, muttering to himself he urged the horse forwards. Their conversation paused as the sight of a large gate cut in stone came into view. An imperial outpost snuggled in a small village; obvious from the large banners of dragons in memento of their prestigious Emperor. It seemed almost daunting as they drew closer and Tegen lowered her eyes content to ignore the plethora of armed soldiers on the barracks.

"What's wrong with him huh?" The thief gestured to their silenced companion who merely glared in return. It was a stupid question, she knew if placed in the same situation she'd have been swearing through the gag with words that would make even the God's blush.

The man didn't look like he appreciated the question, his look mirrored by the blonde. "Watch your tone! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!"

The thief looked shocked for a moment before his face sank into a look of horror.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion, if they've captured you… Oh Gods, where are they taking us?" That didn't bode well, she'd be lying if she said riding in a cart with an apparent traitor and usurper filled her with confidence. As far as she knew this was going to be very bad for her health and the thief had definitely reached the same conclusion.

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

If Tegen felt bad then the thief must have felt worse. At the mention of Sovngarde the twisting of his wrists became more frantic and she was finding it increasingly hard to believe he didn't notice the blood running through his fingers. His shouts turned to shrieks as he fell into denial.

"No! This can't be happening!"

The more he spoke the more disheartened she felt, being dragged into a war she knew nothing about for the sake of a man she'd never even heard of was more than just a kick in the teeth. Her homeland had been filled with politics, people ripping out each other's throats just because they found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time and to find herself wrapped up in it once more made her journey feel like a waste of time. Especially now that she wasn't going to see the end of it.

The men continued to speak, the blonde trying to soothe the thief; reminiscing of their homes and childhood in an attempt to ward off the bleak thoughts that accompanied their deaths. She'd have done the same but the thought of her family brought no comfort and instead she watched the large gateway loom overhead. A soldier shouted to the side, a man dressed in the legions regalia decorated with gold nodding in response.

"General Tullius Sir, the headsman is waiting." Tegen swallowed deeply.

"Good, let's get this over with."

The moment of repose had passed and once more the thief began to babble; calling upon the names of his God's for aid they weren't likely to give. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynerath, Akatosh! Divines, please help me!" His voice was breaking and with each name he seemed closer to tears. She couldn't help but feel the need to cry bubbling in the pit of her stomach, as they slowly made their way through the village and closer to their end her fear grew.

"This is Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Wilod is still making that mead with the juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." The blonde's murmuring bit through her fear, for a traitor he had a knack for soothing people. And she took the opportunity to look around the village.

Houses surrounded by large towers all carrying the imperial banner. They shadowed the roads of the village and as they passed the stone homes tucked into the corners of the walls she saw families urge their children inside. Women averting their eyes from the procession and man staring bleakly as they passed. Eventually they stopped and away from the cold eyes of the villagers she found herself surrounded by soldiers of all banners. The ones with arrows trained on their chests dressed in leathers of tanned brown and her fellow prisoners; bound and bruised in tunics of soft blue.

"Why are we stopping?" She didn't want to think about it.

"Why do you think? End of the line." Exhaling a shaky breath she stood with the others as they were ordered from the cart. Behind her the large nord ushered them forwards with a courage she couldn't muster.

"Let's go, we shouldn't keep the Gods waiting."

Once more the thief began ranting; his shouts ignored by the soldiers as he proclaimed his innocence and tried to coerce her into doing the same. She merely shook her head and exited the cart, stumbling slightly as she landed. She was scared; terrified, but from the nature of their capture and just who they were with she found it an impossibility they would be released on mere word alone. She was surrounded by nords content to meet the God's in the knowledge they'd fought for what they believed in and though she couldn't say the same she'd look her end in the face and go with honour. Or something like that.

"Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time." A female captain ordered, scrutinising the ragged prisoners streaked with dirt and blood. The man next to her faltered slightly, he carried a list no doubt scrawled with their names though from the look on his face he wasn't nearly as remorseless about this as his commanding officer.

"Empire loves their damn lists." One by one he called their names and for the first time she learnt with whom she'd spent the final hours of her life.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The gagged man dressed in furs and fine silk stepped forward, meeting the captain's eye with a look of courage and anger. Silently he met with the others surrounding the headsman, all bowing their heads to him in a display of fealty as he stood waiting.

"It has been an honour Jarl Ulfric."

The man with the list spoke again, frowning at the name he spoke.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

The blonde man left and for a moment Tegen wished he'd come back, his resolute bravery on their way there had been of slight comfort and seeing him leave her side made her feel more than a little exposed. He was like a giant shield and wasn't ashamed to admit her battle strategy; had it come to it, would have been to hide behind him.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." The thief almost shrieked.

"No! I'm not a rebel, you can't do this!" He didn't wait for their answer choosing instead to run from their group up the cobbled path shouting his freedom. It didn't last long, the captain commanding the presiding legion to end his life and with the whoosh of splitting air he fell to the ground as the archers unloaded their arrows into his back.

Turning back to the remaining prisoners the captain eyed Tegen with a harsh glare, daring her to try the same. "Anyone else feel like running?"

She shook her head slightly, eyes wide at the idea of being shot down mid stride. She was no stranger to combat, she'd been hunting with her family since she was small but she was unarmed and outnumbered, the idea was no less than chilling.

Once more the man with the list returned to reading names and one by one the prisoners around her disappeared until she stood alone before the Imperial soldiers. The brown haired nord checked his list once more, pausing for a moment before locking eyes with her.

"Wait, you there. Step forward."

Tegen's heart leapt, she moved forwards biting her lip as she approached the soldier. He looked her over; dirty hair, bruised face and ragged clothes. Nothing about her screamed Stormcloak but he couldn't be sure.

"Who are you?"

Meeting his eyes she raised her chin slightly in mock confidence despite how much her eyes betrayed her. "Tegen Gilelle." She was a breton hailing from the farms in High Rock. Among the nord soldiers she stood only to their shoulders, a slight of a woman even in her homeland and among the pale men she stood out with dark sun kissed skin and warm brown hair. He seemed to realise her nature and asked,

"You from Daggerfall Breton? Fleeing some court intrigue?"

"You could say that." Her voice was quiet and steady but inside she pleaded for him to help her. Death was an unknown and of course that deeply scared her but her hopes sank as his face changed to a look of pity as he realised her predicament. He turned to his commanding officer.

"Captain what should we do? She's not on the list."

She didn't even look at her before deciding. "Forget the list, she goes to the block."

Tegen sucked in a breath, eyes widening to a look of panic as she shook her head slightly. He turned back to her and once more felt nothing but pity. Her teeth chattered in the brisk wind and the more he looked the she seemed out of place and out of depth.

"By your orders Captain. I'm sorry; we'll make sure your remains are returned to high rock. Follow the Captain prisoner." He seemed truly sad, but his compassion was lost as she turned and stumbled her way to the other prisoners, eyes never leaving the wooden block by which the headsman stood. A man ordained in gold leafed armour stepped forward, a confident smirk on his face as he approached the bound Jarl. Standing before him he stared the man down not intimidated by his superior height and began to speak.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Seeing him stood in binds he didn't seem like a man who would commit regicide, and at his speech she realised the reason his mouth had been gagged must be to do with this 'voice'. A type of magic she hadn't heard of? Controlled through speech rather than spirit?

He grunted in return, but merely goaded the Imperial's ego.

"You started this war and plunged Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!"

His voice trailed off to the sound of an echo through the hills. A roar of a kind that shook Tegen to the core and left her holding her breath. She hadn't been the only on to hear it, the soldiers around her searching their surroundings for the source of the sound. The man with the list spoke, questioning the nature of the disembodied roar. She turned to look at him at his place next to the headsman as his worry was shot down by the general.

"It's nothing, carry on." He turned to stand by his captain as she spiritedly obeyed his orders. Turning she spoke to a robed woman at her side, the glimmer of an amulet around her neck showing she was a priestess of Arkay; the God of death and rebirth. If she hadn't been resigned to her fate before Tegen was sure she'd have been rolling in despair at this point. She may have had a respect for the God's but she was in no hurry to meet them and for a moment she considered making a run for it.

"Yes general Tullius. Give them their last rights."

The priestess spoke, reciting a passage reserved for the truly condemned. "As we commend your souls to aetherius, blessings of the eight divines upon you…"

A man to her right interrupted walking forwards and scowling at the Imperials. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." She realised that the man had invoked the name of Talos while the priestess had only done so with eight of the divines. The nords outburst may have been out of spite for the disrespect of his deity but his courage never wavered as he approached the block.

"As you wish." The priestess stopped leaving the grisly scene and the Breton wanted to shout at the inconsiderate man for ruining her last rights. If she was going to die she wanted at least to do it properly but as his neck met the block and he spoke of his ancestors her anger dissipated and once more she succumbed to the cold grip of fear on her insides. With a sharp chop the headsman ended his life and she found herself looking away. His death really made it sink in and the sick feeling from earlier that morning returned full strength at the certainty of her situation. Some soldiers shouted; cursing the Imperials and what they stood for while others; even villagers, extended the same courtesy to the Stormclocks.

Ralof commended the man's bravery. "As fearless in death as he was in life." Glancing at her with a resolute look she swallowed her fear and nodded slightly. She'd be brave. She hoped.

As his body fell from the block the captain called for the next prisoner and with horror she realised it was her. Once more an echoing roar sounded over the courtyard and once more they turned their gazes to the sky in search of the source. Though the voice called to the edges of her spirit; an experience she could only relate to the feel of magic, her feet remained fixed to the floor eyes never leaving the block slick wet with blood.

"I said next prisoner!" The woman's rough voice pulled her from her reverie and her eyes snapped to the female soldier. Her breath was coming in sharp pants as she tried to look anywhere but the dead soldier. A man's voice sounded and she realised it belonged to the solider that had sounded their names and although he beckoned her to her death she found his accented voice soothing.

"To the block prisoner, nice and easy."

Swallowing once more she approached the headsman, stepping over the lifeless man's body and standing before the block. The nord soldier stood before her offering her another look of sympathy as she stared at him almost crushed by her fear. A hand on her back pushed her to her knees, landing harshly on the gravel before pushing her head to the block. The thick strands of her hair lay over her face as the cold blood smeared across her skin and ran down her neck. Her blue eyes were wide and shakily she closed them as the headsman raised his axe. All she could hear was the harsh wind clutching at her hair and her ragged breaths, the metallic smell of blood offending her senses as she waited silently for her end.

Once more a roar, closer this time; that echoed through the very ground and snapped her eyes open. She'd been overcome with fear but now that feeling was replaced by a thick dread at the sight before her.

A watch tower upon which roosted a creature she'd thought only a legend. A dragon; scales an inky black she felt only Sithis could have borne and its eyes, the ones that bore into her very soul, burnt a magnificent red.

"Dragon!"

At the sound of the solider it roared, a powerful sound that knocked the breath from her lungs, sending the headsman sprawling behind her. Above the creature the air writhed and contorted to a sickly red, the clouds baring rocks spattered in flames that beat the ground and those unfortunate enough to be caught beneath.

It roared once more and shaking at the sound Tegen leapt from the block and gasping for breath tried to regain her footing. It voice was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, it burnt in a way she couldn't describe like the words were dipped in the flames it breathed. Behind her the soldiers shouted grappling to reach safety as the dragon left its perch and followed with a lick of fire.

"Hey Breton, get up!" Ralof's voice reached her ears and pulling herself from the ground she stood to face him. He'd unbound himself, likely with the dagger clutched in his right hand taken from an unfortunate soldier. He beckoned to her to move,

"Come on, the God's won't give us another chance!" She didn't have to be told twice, jumping up she ran behind him dodging falling rocks and the embers of fire. They entered a watch tower Ralof closing the thick wooden door behind them as she fell to the ground, hair falling over her face as she gasped for breath.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages."

Their voices seemed mute against the one that still burnt in her ears; she could feel the echoes of its words in her chest.

"That voice…." The men paused to look at her, a wreck on the floor as she shakily pushed herself to her knees. They seemed confused, no more effected than if they'd been shouted at by a child.

"Can't you hear that voice?" Her words were almost hysterical and the Nords exchanged a glance. The Jarl nodded to Ralof commanding him to move and with a swift motion he pulled Tegen from the floor; large hand encircling her arm. She looked at him eyes wide like a deer as he spoke and pushed her forward.

"Up through the tower, let's go!" Stumbling she obeyed and scaled the stone steps with ragged breaths. Halfway they found their path blocked by fallen rubble, another Stormcloak arm deep between the rocks trying to clear a path. Ralof moved to help him, their only escape through the roof but Tegen felt the voice echo once more. Instinctively she pulled him back, struggling at his weight as he turned to her with a vexed look.

"What-"

"Stop!" She screeched; his face contorting into a look of worry and confusion at her distress. He turned to move again at the beckoning of the soldier but the cracking of rock as large pieces of stone fell around them pushed them back, falling hard on the stairs. The dragons face leered through the hole, eyeing the now crushed soldier before spitting flames at the poor soul. The heat was almost unbearable and if the man wasn't dead before he certainly wasn't now. Ralof turned with a look of gratitude as he helped her off the stairs pulling her to the now unoccupied hole in the tower.

Before them stood a ruined house, the thatched roof sporting holes large enough for one soul to fit through. Turning to look at Ralof incredulously she almost guffawed at the grin sporting his face.

"You have got to be crazy!" He laughed at her horrified expression pushing her towards the edge and instructing her to not land on her face. She scowled at the advice knowing with her hands bound there was little else she could do, she made to turn to ask him to cut her ropes but with a small push he sent her flying across the gap to the floor of the next building. She coughed out a sharp breath as she landed on her side, rolling to her back as she glared back up at the grinning Nord.

"Go! We'll follow when we can!" He waved her away before ducking back behind the stone walls from the molten breath of the dragon.

Pulling herself up with a wheeze she winced at the pain in her shoulder, landing on it probably hadn't been the greatest idea but unfortunately she'd had little choice. Running through the ruined house past beds coated in ash and smoke Tegen gently lowered herself through a hole in the floor, leaving the home through a hole as wide as the one she'd fell through.

The bright light of fire made her wince and once more she found herself in the company of the Imperial soldier calling villagers from the dragon's path.

"Haming! You need to get over here, now!" The small child ran past the men to join her in her hiding place by a pile of rubble, his small blackened hands clutching at her rough tunic desperately as the two men ran to join them.

Looking up she met his surprised brown eyes as they turned to a look of determination. He beckoned her to leave the cover of the debris and pulled her to the side.

"Still alive prisoner? Stay close to me if you want to stay that way." He turned back to the villagers ordering them to keep each other safe as he began to run to where the dragon had once sat. Following behind the Breton made to call for him to release her; eyes focused on the sharp sword within his grasp but her voice fell short to the loud roar of the flying beast. With a shout he pulled her back against a charred wall slamming her back against the bricks as the beasts blackened wings curled over the stone. She sucked in a breath at how close the dragon was, its flesh seemed to exude heat and for a moment she reached to touch it only to have it pull away and attack more soldiers.

Pausing at the idiocy of her actions she shook her head and laughed hollowly, a few minutes ago she'd been dreading the end to her life but now in the chaos she was practically inviting it to find her. A sharp clap on the shoulder pulled her back from her thoughts and nodding she followed the soldier as he weaved through the broken remains of houses and bodies.

Emerging from the wreckage they found themselves in the presence of the General and upon noticing them he barked a sharp order.

"Hadvar! Into the keep soldier we're leaving!" He nodded pulling once more at her wrist as she peered at the sky in search of the echoes of that earth shaking voice.

"Come on prisoner move!" Stumbling behind him she ran shrieking slightly as the dragon swept over them, scooping up an unfortunate soldier and releasing him miles above the village. Balking at his scream she lurched faster after Hadvar feeling helpless and small. If armed soldiers couldn't avoid or even seem to hurt the beast then she certainly wasn't going to be of any help to herself if it decided she looked tasty.

"It's you and me prisoner! Let-" His voice cut off as Ralof stumbled through a wrecked part of the stone wall before them, face smeared with ash as he glared at the Imperial soldier.

Recoiling at his presence Tegen ran into the back of him, barely shaking him as he shouted at the Stormcloak. "Ralof you damned traitor! Out of my way!" Her eyes widened at the way he spoke, almost as if they knew each other and to reinforce her suspicion Ralof spoke the same way.

"We're leaving Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time!" He beckoned her to follow him into the Keep as he made for a large wooden door.

"Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" Hadvar too gestured for her to follow and for a moment she paused and considered her choice, she'd barely time to culminate a thought when the shriek of the dragon returned darker and more forceful than before with a shout that seared all sense from her mind.

_**YOL…**_

Leaping forward she barrelled into the Keep followed by a solider pulling the door closed behind them. She fell to her knees breath shaking as she tried to control her trembling hands. It was hard to think; all she could hear was the heat of that voice circling in her mind.

_**TOOR SHUL**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! Thank you czr for reviewing, you're awesome :) Hope you enjoy~  
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From her place on the floor Tegen finally felt her breath return, the cool air of the keep softening the blistered feeling in chest. Now sheltered from the dragon's flames she felt the chill of the mountains set back in, the thin tunic she wore providing no warmth as the tremble returned to her fingers. She laughed lightly pressing her hands to her face, not caring for how black with smoke they'd become. With the blood and dirt already smeared across her skin some ash wasn't likely to make things much worse.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to be so cold." She despised winter; snow and ice made her uncomfortably cold, but sat in the keep she was grateful for the chill that seeped through the stone floor into her flesh.

The rumble of a dull roar urged her to her feet now taking in her new surroundings. A stone room filled with beds and chests, likely the barracks for the Imperial soldiers that had; up until recently, rested there peacefully. She made to step forward but a hand on her shoulder stopped her; whirling in surprise she yelped slightly at the unexpected intrusion. She hadn't realised another had followed her through the large door; the flames licking at her heels had been cause enough for distraction, but regardless Hadvar stood before her brushing the ash from his armour.

"Looks like we made it, was that really a dragon? The bringers of the end time?" She frowned at his question earning a baffled look from the nord. She'd thought it had been obvious given the fire and the flying and the murdering people in the streets.

"Sure looked like a dragon." He ignored the bite in her words and moved away from the door. The wood looked ready to splinter, and not wishing to become a pincushion should it give way Tegen moved with him.

"We should keep moving, come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off." He turned to her unsheathing a dagger from his belt and fearing perhaps he'd decided to finish off the headsman's job, she lurched away from him.

His face fell once more to the look of pity he'd sported throughout the entire tirade; he couldn't blame her for her suspicion, in her place he'd presumably act the same. Extending his free hand he bid her to take it, she merely stared with knitted brows weighing her options. Trust the man who'd stood close enough to the block to have his boots splattered with blood or run back out of the keep and hope the dragon had roasted everyone and left?

A moment passed and they hadn't moved, Tegen just watched him closely, eyes flicking from his hand to his face waiting for him to act. She held her hands close to her chest, partly for warmth and partly because she feared what he would do with the knife. One swipe and she could kiss her wrists and most of her blood goodbye. She'd already stared death in the face more than once that day and she'd be damned if she was going to do it again.

Hadvar's face fell as he sighed, rubbing his brow in exasperation before once more gesturing for her to take his hand.

"Come on, you need your hands free." Sighing in displeasure she stepped towards him knowing she wouldn't get far with her hands of no use. Placing her slender hands in his she revelled at how warm they were. Blasted nords.

Gently he placed the blade of his dagger under the ropes and swiftly cut them from her wrists.

"There you go. Take a look around, there should be plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns." He turned away but stopped as she gently grabbed his wrist. Turning his hands over in hers she weighed the damage in her mind. They'd run through burning wreckages of houses and towers; she'd followed behind useless as he'd pushed aside debris still smoking from a barrage of flames. She winced at the sight of his palms, raw from burns and splinters.

"Here." Running her fingers across his skin he started at the glow that emanated from her hands; lingering a moment before sinking into his. She glanced up at him as she worked, huffing at the way his eyes narrowed be it subconsciously or not.

"You're a healer." Not a question, a statement. One she couldn't help but notice was laced with a layer of distrust. Releasing his hands she turned to her own wrists, easing the tight skin rubbed red from the ropes.

"It comes in handy." And boy was that true. Inspecting his hands once more Hadvar told her to search for equipment, he feared the keep; now being the only safe place in Helgen, had attracted Stormcloaks fortunate enough to escape a fiery death. Should they run into any he wanted to be prepared and having an armed comrade never hurt.

Peering around the barracks Tegen rifled her way through chests searching for armour that looked reasonably wearable. Each cuirass she found seemed to either hang down to her feet from her lack of height or fall from her shoulders without warning. Cursing she pulled the leather armour over her head and cast it to the floor sighing in dismay at her luck, of course Skyrim had to be the land in which everyone towered over her. Crossing the room to a final chest she glanced behind to find Hadvar had graciously kept his back turned through the ordeal. Sighing she opened the chest and grabbed the leather within. Trying it on she found it to be of the best fit, the only cuirass that didn't make moving a nightmare. She still looked like a child in her parent's clothes but it was better than nothing.

"You should give that sword a few swings." Tegen turned to Hadvar following his gaze to a sword hung against the wall. The blade was a rough iron; dinted and notched through years of use and lack of care and as she pulled it from the wall she was surprised by its unusual weight. The sword made a loud clang as it fell to the stone floor and sheepishly she laughed at the despondent look Hadvar gave her.

"Everything's bigger in Skyrim." A pitiful excuse but a true one none the less. He chuckled slightly and once more unsheathed his dagger. With ease he took the sword from her hands and offered the knife,

"Perhaps this will suit you better." Huffing she took the dagger and twirled it in her hand, judging the weight and length with a few small slashes. It was indeed an improvement; the steel was in far better shape than the old sword and despite feeling particularly weak knowing she could barely lift a nord crafted weapon, she grinned at how easy the dagger was to wield.

"Let's keep moving, that thing is still out there." She nodded sheathing the dagger in her belt as Hadvar pulled a looped chain on the wall. With a scraping of metal a weathered portcullis raised and granted them exit from the room to a dark corridor and another gate.

From the other side came the echo of voices; Tegen could only make out a few words as they crept closer, the soldiers up in arms about the appearance of the dragon. Cautiously she peered through the wooden lattice before retreating back to the shadows. Two soldiers, a man and woman, both sporting burns and no doubt weary from running. Hadvar followed her lead, sizing up the soldiers before turning back with a whisper.

"Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them." His voice sounded hopeful but his face reflected his doubt. Subconsciously her hand found the pommel of her blade and she whispered back.

"You think they'll listen?" He looked down for a moment before meeting her eyes with a resolute look.

"No."

Like before he pulled a chain on the wall; the gate opening as the soldier's mumbling quieted. They stepped into the room weapons sheathed and palms raised to show they meant no harm. Dressed in Legion regalia they weren't likely to be excused from a fight, but if they made no effort to seem unthreatening then there wouldn't be the opportunity to avoid bloodshed.

The Stormcloaks barely took one look at them before brandishing their weapons, shouting some inane curse as they prepared themselves for battle. Her companion tried his best to make them concede but his words fell on deaf ears.

Hadvar's shield clashed with another, the soldier with which he tarried trying to break his footing. If not for the loud grunt of the remaining soldier as he hefted his warhammer above his head Tegen's blood would be decorating the floors of the keep. With a small grunt she leapt to the side silently berating herself for losing focus; if she didn't want to die that was the one thing she needed. Pulling his weapon from the now cracked stone the Stormcloak attacked once more with a sideward strike, but again she leapt from its path.

Grinning she unsheathed her dagger content that despite her opponent towering over her with a weapon equally as large, he was having a hard time hitting her. Perhaps being small wasn't as much a disadvantage as she'd thought. With each swing of his weapon she evaded well enough searching for a moment to strike, but each time she drew close he'd kick out with a snarl and she'd leap back to safety. Resolutely she prepared to strike picking her moment and clumsily slashing out with her blade only to pull back as Hadvar's shield collided with the man's head. He fell to the ground and quickly and cleanly the nord was put of his misery with a sword to the chest.

Hadvar glanced at her quickly as she huffed at the corpse, kicking his arm as she sheathed her dagger. She wasn't a particularly talented fighter he could tell, she was lithe and athletic, talented in dodging but her skill with a blade left much to be desired. Her slender arms had little muscle and by the way she shook her hands as she followed him; gripping the dagger had already sored her palms.

Approaching another gate he eyed the lock warily. "Let me see if I can get this door open." His large hands fumbled with a lockpick, she wasn't sure why he possessed one but he was clearly out of his element. Placing a hand on his arm she produced a small key from her pouch. She'd found it forgotten at the bottom of the chest containing her armour, she'd not known they had need of it but her gut had told her to take it anyway. She counted it as a silent victory for stealing her fight.

Now unlocking the gate Hadvar led her through a wide corridor and a rounded staircase. The walls were lined with barrels and bales of hay and as they ventured lower into the keep the temperature mirrored their descent. For a moment she resolved to ask Hadvar where they were heading, downwards may have been a smart tactic, if the dragon was in the sky why not get as far away as possible? But the further they went the more unlikely she felt they'd find an exit.

She opened her mouth to speak but as they rounded a corner they met the eyes of two legion soldiers. From across the hallway they made to beckon them closer but their voices fell flat at the roar of the dragon from above. In the wake of its voice the roof caved, rocks splitting and crashing to the floor before them.

Coughing through the dust as it settled upon her face and arms Tegen stood slowly, wafting away the cloud of debris. Beside her Hadvar mirrored her actions as he approached the pile of rubble blocking their way. Meekly he tried to dislodge the rocks and upon seeing his efforts made no difference chose instead to call to the other Imperials. Moments passed with no response, just the sounds of falling pebbles and the occasional bestial roar.

Grunting in annoyance Hadvar turned from the blockage and crossed his arms. "Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy." Walking to the side Tegen drew close as he pressed his ear to a door almost hidden beneath dust and grime. She hadn't noticed it in the dark of the corridor but felt more than grateful her companion had. She didn't fancy heading back out the way they came, from the sounds of it the dragon was still overhead turning its attention from the inhabitants of Helgen to the very buildings.

Hadvar motioned her closer and obeying she pressed her ear to the door and listened. Men arguing; she couldn't make out their conversation but the occasional word slipped through. Imperials, potions and an explicit need from the tone of their mumblings. Sighing she glanced at Hadvar and clearly he'd reached the same conclusion; more Stormcloaks vying for their blood likely armed and most definitely better trained.

Readying her weapon they opened the door silently, Hadvar making a bee line for the soldiers while she slunk back in the shadows. Once more they attacked without thought and once more they met the force of his shield. The two Stormcloaks both carried large two handed weapons; an apparent specialty of the rebel soldiers, and while one tested his strength against the stead of a shield the other made for an attack. A low swing aimed for the gut, a crippling wound should it hit. However Tegen took her chance, mid swing she leapt from her place in the shadows and with a small snarl plunged her dagger in the man's back. The large sword fell to the floor as he stood silent, mouth agape in shock as his limbs shook from the strike. Wincing she wrenched the blade producing a sickening snap as he fell to the ground and her blade came free.

Stepping back she waited as Hadvar finished his fight, quickly and cleanly like before. He turned to her glancing at the body of the man she had felled and nodded in gratitude, had she faltered he might not have survived no matter how accomplished a healer she was. Noting the way she clenched the dagger in her hand till her knuckles whitened and the way her dark face paled he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"Are you alright?" She jumped slightly, pulled from her thoughts and smiled weakly.

"Yes." Nodding he scanned the room in which they stood. Stacks of barrels and boxes leant against the walls opposite a fire surrounded by piles of tinder and animals hung for preparation.

"An old storeroom. See if you can find some potions, might come in handy." Motioning to the barrels he made his way to the door scouting ahead as she shuffled to a table covered in cast iron pots and bowls. Hands still shaking she clenched her eyes shut for a moment and took a deep breath, clumsily sheathing her blade and shaking the blood from her fingers. As far as she could recall that was the first person she'd ever killed. Once or twice she might have injured her brother on a hunt with a stray arrow to the behind but she had practically felt the life leave his body. Perhaps it was her connection with magic that whispered to her as his last breath left his lips, the woe of a healer at taking what she should have protected?

Pulling loose strands of hair from her face Tegen scanned the nearby shelves in an effort to take her mind off her actions, grabbing small phials of indiscernible potions mixed to cloudy shades instead of their usual brilliant colours. Pausing momentarily from her search she wiped the blood from her hands and grabbed a loaf of bread from near the fire. Tearing small pieces she ate as she searched occasionally offering pieces to Hadvar as he stood guard. It felt like she hadn't eaten in days, it seemed prisoners of the Empire weren't fortunate enough to warrant feeding despite how meek a convict's meal may have been. If she wanted to continue being helpful she needed to keep what little strength she had up.

Approaching Hadvar she took a small sip from one of the phials she'd collected assuming from the sickly shade of green it had meant to be a stamina draught. Smiling at the rush of energy and how much clearer her mind felt she nodded to her companion. He smiled in return and opened the door behind him.

"This way."

Once more they were confronted with the sight of stairs spiralling down further into the mountain. They proceeded slowly, careful not to trip in the dim light and with each step Tegen found it harder to ignore the metallic smell she'd come to associate with blood. As if sensing her unease Hadvar sent her an almost apologetic look. He wasn't keen on the methods his Empire used to exact justice and keep the land safe, but he knew certain actions were necessary to do so. He could only imagine how she'd react, it seemed only natural a healer would abhor what occurred in the bowels of the keep.

With heavy words he spoke. "The torture room. God's I wish we didn't need these."

Faltering slightly Tegen bit her tongue. She knew she should of shown more than apathy at the fact they were heading to a room built to make even the strongest wish for death, but the more she thought about it the more she felt glad she'd been sent to the block. Had she been sent here they'd have pegged her a healer immediately, likely choosing to tailor their torture around her magic in the most agonising way possible.

Instead she chose to follow silently, content to pass through the chamber as quickly as possible turning a blind eye to the darker side of her companion's banner. As they approached the bottom of the stairs Hadvar moved his arm in front of her, motioning her to be still.

"Hear that?" As his voice echoed away it was swiftly replaced by the sound of clashing metal, the scraping of footsteps and the crackling of magic.

"Come on!" Once more Hadvar brandished his shield and with but a glance rounded the corner and joined the fray. Tegen hesitated; from her place by the stairs she could already see the brutalities that had taken place in the room. A skeleton hung against the nearby wall, bones marked with notches from the slash of blades, others crushed and crumbling to dust. Swallowing deeply she stepped round the corner unsheathing her blade and preparing to fight. The last Stormcloak fell to the ground before she had time to think. There had been two of them, an even match for the Imperials guarding the cells but Hadvar had clearly tipped the scales in their favour.

Now stood only the Legion soldiers, one large of Nordic descent and a smaller much older man, face sheathed behind a dark cowl. The hooded man tutted idly, kicking the corpse of their foes before turning his attention to them.

"You fellows happened along just in time. These boys seemed a bit upset as to how I've been entertaining their comrades." Tegen scowled.

"They have every right to be upset." The torturer turned his gaze to her; even with his face obscured she could tell he was sneering. She wrinkled her nose in reply, his arms were slick with the remnants of magic, she could feel the static on her tongue and judging from the burns and lacerations on the fallen soldiers at their feet he was an accomplished user. Destruction; the more violent energies of Aetherius. Hadvar stepped in before the torturer could speak though she kept her glare firmly on his back.

"Don't you even know what's going on? A dragon is attacking Helgen!" He seemed confused that anyone in the keep could have failed to notice. With the structure weakened and ceilings collapsing they had to have noticed something. Clearly they hadn't and confidently the torturer instated his authority and dismissed his claims.

"A dragon? Please, don't make up nonsense." He took a moment before heading to a passage way obscured by the large cages in the room. "Although come to think of it; I did hear some noises coming from over there." He peered down the passage in contemplation before returning to the cages dismissing their presence. Hadvar scowled, sharing a glance with Tegen before approaching the torturer.

"Come with us, we need to get out of here." He extended his hand once more in a friendly gesture, the same as he had done with her, but the man merely grimaced.

"You have no authority over me boy." Hadvar's calm exterior slowly receded, the old man chipping away at his resolve as he refused to acknowledge the truth. Their argument continued and Tegen's interest was quickly lost. If the old sadist wanted to stay and burn then she'd be more than happy to let him. She scanned the room careful to avoid looking at the numerous corpses littered across the ground and walls. Some of them clearly weren't fresh, not even the scent of spilled blood could cover that stench.

Grimacing at the state she crossed the room taking care to side-step the large pool of blood in the centre and made her way to a gated room. Inside she noted were several historical books dating back to the founding of the first Empire, the torturer was clearly a man proud of his heritage. Frowning she figured it was probably the reason he justified treating people this way. Upon a desk sat another dagger, iron in make and less well kept than the one Hadvar had provided her but regardless she slipped it into her boot. It never hurt to have another weapon handy.

Quickly she picked up some disregarded lockpicks and returned to the main chamber noting Hadvar's argument still raged. He huffed in deviance determined to make him see the error of his judgement but another man spoke up, one she'd not realised had been present.

"Forget the old man, I'll come with you." She jumped from her place next to him; he'd stood silent the entire time and merely watched as she'd picked her way through their things. She coughed sheepishly before Hadvar caught her attention.

"Wait a second. Looks like there's something in this cage." Knowing he couldn't change the torturer's mind and save another soul from frying he had no choice to move on, but that didn't mean they couldn't better prepare themselves. He gestured to a central cage and Tegen stepped forward to take a closer look.

The torturer laughed. "Don't bother with that, lost the key ages ago. Poor fellow screamed for weeks." Once more she felt the urge to shout at the man for how inhumane his very existence was but Hadvar passed her a handful of picks and drew her attention to the lock.

"See if you can get it open with some picks, we'll need everything we can get." Twirling the brittle metal between her fingers she looked at him sceptically. Just because he couldn't do this didn't mean she could.

"You honestly want me to do this?" She couldn't hide the incredulity from her voice, hadn't they already discerned she was a healer? Healers didn't break into people's houses; she had no clue where to even start. He ducked his head and made for the passageway the torturer had mentioned.

"In case you didn't notice, picking locks is not my expertise."

Clicking her tongue she flipped the hair from her face, huffing as it tickled her nose and bent down to closer inspect the lock. Like all the metal she'd seen as of yet it was old and rusted, badly kept and likely not very strong. Firmly grasping a pick she gently placed the end in the keyhole, listening closely for the tell-tale clicks as she gently turned it. With a held breath and a portion of luck the lock sprung free and the door opened with a creek. She silently cast a triumphant look at the torturer, the man merely waving away her victory and scouring the room for more life forms to torture.

Still smirking Tegen entered the small cage collecting gold pieces from the floor and small phials of magicka draughts. Turning to the man lying still in the corner she couldn't help but feel saddened at the sight. His skin was raw and blistered; wounds that festered with wisps of the aether and had clearly been inflicted by the torturer. It seemed even crueler knowing he was a magic user evident from the robes he wore and looking past the scarred tissue she couldn't help but note he was a Breton like her.

"I'm sorry brother." She whispered before collecting the last of his items and leaving the cage. The other cells were empty so with a final glare at the old man she left with Hadvar and their new companion down a small corridor littered with more cells and more unfortunate souls.

Eventually the cages and cells became scarce and they stumbled upon a large hole in the stone of the keep. From the looks of the rubble it had been there a long time, repurposed as a passageway. Slowly they made their way through what appeared to be a cave system; the walls were too jagged to have been cut from the rock despite the broken stone flooring and large torches lighting the way.

The passageway began to open up, through the dim light Tegen could make out a room sporting large stone pillars and raised platforms. Between the echoes of rushing water came voices thick with the native accent. Slinking back into the shadows she listened, unsheathing her blade and watching the others round the corner behind her. The Stormcloaks appeared at a loss at which way to go, apparently she'd been right about heading further underground. Safe from the dragon, lost for eternity.

Hadvar scowled, his patience lost and bashing his sword against his shield charged into the room to fight. The Breton's mouth hung open shocked at his sudden change of character, watching as the torturer's assistant followed suit and joined the fray. Shaking her head she joined them, staying well back and only making opportunistic moves when the soldiers were occupied dodging her companion's weapons. Despite being outnumbered they fared well, the battle turning in their favour as they slowly but surely made their way across bridges connecting the raised stone platforms.

The sound of splitting air and a sharp pain across her cheek made Tegen recoil as she found shelter behind a large pillar.

"Archers!"

The other's made no move to react, Hadvar only favouring his shield more in the direction of the opposing forces as he fought. Cursing she peered around the corner of the pillar, a careful eye on the archers as they knocked arrows ready to fire again. Grunting slightly she retreated back behind cover at the barrage of arrows that struck the stone. They knew she was there and clearly thought their comrades could take care of hers. Biting her lip she struggled to think, if she stayed where she was Hadvar and their new ally would suffer, they couldn't protect themselves from large hammers and arrows at the same time, but if she moved she'd never get to them before they took her out.

Once more she peaked around the corner searching her mind for a tactic, something she could try that wouldn't end with one of their deaths. And then she saw it, a slight glint of light on the stone in a colour she could only describe as not natural. Glancing at the large fires that light the room an idea sparked, one she wasn't sure would end successfully; but she had to try.

Taking a deep breath she leapt from behind the pillar and ran for the archers, bobbing and weaving in an attempt to make herself a harder target. They seemed confused pausing a moment before knocking more arrows, but that single moment was all that she needed. Hands free of her sheathed daggers she summoned magicka to her hands, the raw energy searing her palms as she bent it to her will and conjured a bright fire. With a shout she threw the fire to the ground, sparks skittering across the stone and igniting a large pool of oil spilt from the fires by their sides.

The fire spread quickly burning through the soldier's armour and skin as their screams echoed through the cavern. Tegen averted her eyes and leant against the wall trying to blot out the scent of burning flesh as the fire spat and reduced to cinders. Pressing her hand against her mouth she fought the need to vomit, the smell bringing tears to her eyes as Hadvar approached. He boasted small cuts and bruises but nothing substantial, the same couldn't be said for the torturer's assistant, the man now laid in a pool of his own blood.

Hadvar sheathed his sword and strapped his shield to his back before tending to his companion. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, loose hair covering her face as she turned her eyes to the ground. She wiped her eyes with her blackened palms and glanced at the smoking remains of the Stormcloaks.

"I hate this." She almost choked on the words, but they were true. She'd killed animals before, who hadn't? Most parents taught their children to hunt from an early age, but taking another human's life was different. She'd trained in a temple as a healer for years, been taught that life was sacred and to be protected. And now she found herself going against what she believed in and she'd barely given it a second thought.

Thankfully Hadvar seemed sympathetic to her plight; he offered no falsities only the truth.

"If not them, it would have been us." She stood straight and set about healing her hands.

"I know." It didn't make it any better.

Nodding he walked past the remains of the archers, approaching an opening in the rock and gesturing for her to follow.

"All right, let's see if we can find a way out." Tegen nodded in return picking her way through the blackened remains and stopping only when the sight of a bow caught her eye. Quickly she retrieved the weapon, testing the string for damage from the flames. It was in good condition despite its simplicity and carefully she retrieved a quiver of only slightly burnt arrows from the Stormcloaks whispering an apology and a prayer as she went.

Hadvar waited patiently as she strapped the quiver to her back firmly grasping the bow in her left hand. He seemed sceptical but continued without a word pulling a nearby lever and lowering a wooden bridge blocking their path. They crossed the bridge to a large chamber filled with rivulets of running water from a waterfall cut through the rock. Behind them a roar echoed; the dragon's voice following them even to the bowels of the keep and with it came the crashing of rock, a large boulder destroying the bridge behind them.

Stumbling from the impact they turned back to view the destruction, Hadvar cursing at their only known route leading to the surface being cut off. Huffing he turned back to Tegen and rubbed his face with his hands in fatigue.

"I guess we're lucky that didn't come down on top of us." The Breton laughed earning a chuckle from the Nord.

"We've had a lot of luck today." She was finding it hard to believe just how lucky she was, back home she'd definitely have kicked the bucket by now. Pulling a green phial from her pouch she offered it to Hadvar who gladly took it and downed it. He looked a mess, face smeared in blood and soot, eyes betraying a tiredness his fighting form didn't showing, but at least the potion made him more alert.

"We'd better push on. I'm sure the others will find another way out." Together they descended the steps into the cavern choosing a small tunnel through the rocks the currents of water followed. Silently they followed the passage, Tegen occasionally slipping on the wet rocks and mentally cursing at the temperature of the water seeping into her boots. If they got out she was building a fire, a big one.

Eventually the water seeped through cracks in the stone walls and they were forced to follow a different path, like before the caves seemed natural but the way had been lighted by small lanterns placed suspiciously close to the old remains of whoever had travelled through there last. Shuddering at the thought Tegen continued noting that the further they went the more spider webs they ran into. With that horrifying revolution she almost wasn't surprised to find a large opening in the passage; every wall covered in webs and large sacs. In some places there even hung bodies of people unfortunate enough to wander too close.

Noticing her stop Hadvar motioned for her to continue only to frown at the look she gave him. Rolling his eyes he moved further into the room brandishing his sword at the sight of spiders of an ungodly size. With practised motions he parry and swiped at the spider and watching from behind she was amazed at his ability to not scream like a little girl, that'd be her reaction. No doubt.

Shaking away the notion she knocked an arrow in her bow, taking a deep breath and waiting. From the ceiling fell more spiders irate at the intrusion within their nest and each turned their attention to Hadvar. Taking the opportunity to her advantage she let loose the arrow revelling in the satisfaction as it pierced the creature's eye. The creature made a strange shrieking sound before being cut down by Hadvar's sword; all the while Tegen sent a smaller spider to Oblivion with a well-placed arrow. Her barrage however didn't occur unnoticed, a spider broke off from the group spitting a viscous liquid she had to roll to avoid. Of course, the bloody things were poisonous.

Eventually the spiders stopped appearing and coated in insect blood and wisps of webs they made their way through the chamber collecting the occasional item dropped by an unfortunate victim and revelling in the fact neither of them had been bitten. Hadvar commented on the size of the creatures, tempting fate with the mention of larger even more horrifying creatures, to which Tegen smacked him around the arm. He chuckled as they continued to a larger cavern, lit with daylight from cracks in the ceiling.

Once more they stuck close to the river following it till Hadvar called her to a stop. Pointing into the beams of light filtered through the roof she made out the silhouette of a large creature covered in fur. At a guess she assumed it was a bear, thankfully sleeping and oblivious to their presence. It was however blocking their passage through the cave and frankly she didn't feel like waiting till it decided to go for a stroll.

Peering around the cave she didn't fancy their chances of sneaking past undetected, she may have been light on her feet but Hadvar certainly wasn't. Especially if the clanking of his shield against his back was anything to go by. Weighing her options she decided a sneak attack was the best course of action and glancing at her bow an idea came to mind.

"I'll be right back." She whispered, patting Hadvar on the shoulder and she doubled back the way they had come. He opened his mouth to question but she shushed him and ran back to the spider's nest she'd been so grateful to leave.

Within the chamber she approached one of the spider's bodies pushing down the urge to squeal and run from the room. She was a big girl, and the spiders were dead. Nothing to worry about! Cautiously she lifted the front of the spider and produced an empty phial from her pouch, pressing the glass against the creature's fangs and pushing gently. Slowly venom began to trickle into the phial and quietly Tegen hummed to distract herself from the numerous glassy eyes that stared at her as she worked. Deciding she'd touched the horrifying creature enough she leapt backwards, dropping the creature and shuddering that she'd had to touch it.

Pocketing the phial she returned to Hadvar who stared curiously as she produced an arrow from her quiver and poured the venom onto the head. Taking a breath knocked the arrow and aimed for the bear. She waited for a few moments sixing up the target before letting the arrow loose. A pained roar filled the cavern as the bear reared from the attack; it staggered momentarily before falling with a pitiful whine. Had it not wanted to rip her throat out she was sure she'd have felt guilty.

Cautiously Hadvar approached the beast prodding it with his sword. When it made no move he sheathed it, content that she'd successfully killed the creature. Tegen eyed the bear, noting her arrow and pierced behind its ear into the back of its head. A shot like that hadn't needed poison and silently she fumed at having had to touch the spiders for no reason. Following Hadvar she couldn't help but notice the scent of fresh air, a welcome change from the musty old cave. With it came the caress of a cool breeze and excited for their freedom Tegen ran, the cave passage finally opening to the vast expanses of Skyrim.

They'd made it.

* * *

**Review if Hadvar stole your kills too! **


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